Life Decisions
by Hogwarts Online II
Summary: There comes a point in our lives when one decision can change everything.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Gravity

**Character:** Theodore Nott

**House:** Slytherin

**Name:** oh nargles/Tenzy

* * *

"_To be or not to be, that is the question."_

_- Shakespeare_

* * *

From his birth to his death, Theodore Nott could swear he had never read a single Muggle text.

He would be lying, but the fact that he could say it with a straight face in a room occupied primarily by fanatic purebloods said something, or so he thought.

His decision was fairly straightforward: to be or not to be, to fight or not to fight. He felt reluctant to do much of anything at all, he didn't want to die, but he didn't want to be branded a coward either for not deciding.

He just _knew _his father would know if he wasn't there, supporting the swarm of Death Eaters that was to buzz around Hogwarts and take it for the Dark Lord.

He blamed it all on Malfoy, the stupid, pale and pointy git.

Theo could beat the blond at a game of chess any day, but ultimately it was the pillocks with the most money that affected anything in their capitalistic world full of Lucius Malfoys, Dark Lords and unfairly inherited looks. He punched the pillow he'd been laying his head on.

"You could go back you know?" A voice behind him spoke quietly.

"No I can't." He replied, not bothering to turn around, he didn't need (or want) to kiss the arse of a sort-of-stranger who pitied him once in their lifetime out of boredom, he had a certain sense of pride after all.

"Yes you can," the voice insisted. "You just won't because you're a coward who likes self-loathing."

Theo's nostrils flared and with his face screwed up in part confusion and part anger he pushed away the white, fluffy pillow the sort-of-stranger had lent him. He still refused to look at her.

"Who likes self-loathing?"

"Masochists, sadists and you."

Theo blinked.

"You're lying."

"Maybe." He smiled and she knew it.

He still couldn't make his mind up.

"It's not a life decision you know."

"How much time's passed?" he asked, ignoring her attempt at advice.

She gave him a withering look but he ignored that as he did most things.

He began to repeat himself but she interrupted.

"It's two in the morning."

"You're lying."

"Maybe."

Try as he might Theodore Nott knew he could never give up the pillow given to him, and try as he might he would never know if someone was lying to him. Some people claimed they knew, as if they were a human polygraph, not that he knew what a polygraph was.

"Is it over yet?" he asked Horace Slughorn.

He watched his Potions Professor carefully, looking for clues of any kind.

"Wha – what my dear boy?"

He repeated himself.

Professor Slughorn shook his head, visibly uncomfortable.

* * *

_Do I go? _He asked himself, laying his head on his pillow once more and staring at a wall in need of renovation. He didn't know long the battle would or was supposed to last. His father hadn't told him anything, his father hadn't done anything except send him a letter consisting of one word: _be_.

_So helpful Father, _he thought embittered.

"I want my pillow back," an insolent voice demanded.

"You can't," he said simply, but he stood up straight and held it protectively in his arms.

"Accio pillow."

Theo tried to snatch the pillow as it whizzed down from his grip and up and across into the waiting arms of she-who-must-not-be-named.

"It was a gift." He glared.

"It was a loan," she countered.

He huffed.

"Just ask Professor Slughorn to transfigure something into a pillow."

"I'd rather not."

"Why not?"

Theo was stumped, he had never questioned his pride; he accepted it and lived by its doctrine, no matter how ridiculous.

The girl snorted.

Theo glared once more.

* * *

"It's too late," she said suddenly.

He didn't look up from his hands, they were refined in his opinion, he had lovely hands, much better than Draco bloody Malfoy's.

"You're lying," he said inspecting his fingernails nonchalantly.

She sounded genuinely frustrated.

"Coward."

"You are what you say," he countered.

"Berk."

"What I said before."

"Poxy, barmy, divvy duffer!"

"I've never heard the third one."

She threw her pillow at him and unfortunately, for her, he caught it and proceeded to back up towards a wall, sat down and snuggled with it.

"Sleep tight," she said passively.

He knew he wouldn't sleep, that he couldn't even if he wanted to.

* * *

He had tormented himself in the time spent at wherever Professor Slughorn had taken him and the rest of the Slytherins. As he peered into the desecrated Great Hall, he shivered and remembered the others in that suffocating room.

At the time, he hadn't thought it was suffocating, at the time he'd been focused on the wonderful pillow given to him by an almost-stranger, at the time he'd been hoping he wouldn't have to make a decision.

He'd gotten a wish he hadn't wished. The opportunity to make the decision he'd been dreading in the first place had passed him by, and somehow that saddened him.

The sound of footsteps grew louder as it came towards him.

"Are you going to find your father?" a quiet voice asked.

"He was never lost," he pointed out.

Theo could see a faint smile but the point was that it didn't reach the eyes.

"Maybe," he echoed.

"You can't say maybe to everything," she retorted.

"Why not?"

She had no answer for that but similarly he had no reason for his support.

"Make a decision," she demanded.

"No," he replied immediately.

She sighed.

"It was worth an attempt."

* * *

A slightly bloody, more than slightly dirty, boy of ten or eleven by Theo's guess, scratched names on a ripped piece of parchment:

_Rose Zeller  
Colin Creevey  
Bea Beatrice McDonald  
Lara O'Callaghan  
Freya Banham  
Co__**li**__n Cree__**vey**_

Theo knew what the names formed almost instantly: a list of the dead. They were just names to him but it stuck with him as he ran away from the unarmed boy.

_I'm not, I'm not, I'm not_, he screamed in his head.

What he wasn't befuddled him but it became clearer as voices other than his own filled his ears.

"A pile of them looks gruesome."

"Dead, the lot of them deserved everything they got."

"You think?"

"You think murdering marauders thinking they're superior because they're part of the good old boys club deserve an ovation?"

"Of course not, but – "

"But nothing, leave them here to rot, Merlin knows they'd do the same for us."

Theo's fists clenched tightly. He could only guess at what was in the room before him. He only needed to push the door, there was a slight crack and for the life of him, Theo couldn't work up the courage to have a peek. It had to be fully confrontational he knew that, dead bodies were confronting and sneaking a peek was disrespectful.

His father had taught him that.

_Father._

A panicked look on his face Theo looked at the door and breathed carefully, placing his hand an inch away from the carved wooden door. He chanced a glance at the empty corridor, closed his eyes and pushed the door abruptly, startling the women inside.

"Theo?" One of them called out in confusion.

"Flora, Hestia!" Theo looked from the Carrow twins to the pile of dead bodies.

Each one was missing a Dark Mark, he pulled and pushed the the dead around to check twice and then he checked again.

"Your father's not here," said Flora, or was it Hestia?

"Where is he?" he managed to croak out.

"Azkaban."

Theo felt his mouth go dry.

"Will you visit him?" the twins chorused.

"No, of course not," he laughed.

"The war's over and done with. I have to start afresh, my father would understand."

* * *

_To be or not to be?_

_Not to be, my fair withered lady._

The tale's not dull if all's a plea

The light is shady still


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Don't Make Me Choose  
Character: Hermione Granger  
House: Ravenclaw  
Name: Principi Phantasia/Prissie

I held the letter gingerly between my fingers. I still haven't told Mum and Dad. How could I? How could I tell them that their only daughter, who had always struggled to fit in, was apparently a freak? A witch. I still couldn't get the idea in my head. Sure, there have been weird, inexplicable phenomenons, but having someone confirm it is different on a whole new level.

It appeared I had a decision to make – a serious decision that will influence my whole life from here on out, a decision too heavy to be burdened upon an 11 year old. You see, for me, it's not as simple as it seems. I've spent my entire childhood on the outside looking in, trying to get the other kids to play with me, but for some reason unknown to myself, they refused. Blatantly. All of them. Even the ones who weren't in my grade. Is it that I was annoying? Or was I weird? What's wrong with me?

I never gave up. I strived to be what everyone wanted me to be, and I finally succeeded. I gained my peers' acceptance, my teachers were fond of me, and I became a straight A student of whom my parents were proud of. And just when I thought I finally had it all, this letter came to tell me that, no, I never fitted in, and I never will fit in.

I knew that in this new place – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – I would be an outsider _again_. I knew absolutely nothing about magic, and I highly doubted that Mum or Dad had magical powers that they never revealed to me. I wouldn't fit in to such a foreign world. But then I wondered, have I never fitted in here because I don't actually belong here? I was at a stage where I questioned everything about my life. Unimaginable, the affect just one letter had on my life.

Having given up trying to figure it all out on my own, I finally confided in my parents. They took the news much better than I had expected them to.

"Oh, my dear Hermione, I always knew you were special!" Mum cried.

"Where do we sign?" Dad had asked enthusiastically.

I was very confused. "Mum, Dad, I don't even know if I should attend this school…"

"But, why, Hermione?" Mum wondered, clearly bewildered as to why I'm not half as excited as they were about this.

"I don't know, I mean, I'm finally coping so well with school and everything."

"Didn't you complain about bullies?" Dad asked skeptically.

"Exactly. I solved that problem, I have friends now!"

"Well, you can always make new friends," Mum reasoned.

"Mum, you know it's not that easy for me," I gave her an exasperated look.

"I know, honey. And trust me; it hurts me to see you struggle. But don't you think you should learn to control this… this _power_ that you've got?" I clearly got my logicality from my Mum.

"Maybe if I ignore it, it will go away?" I mused doubtfully.

"Just sleep on it, Hermione. You have a lot to consider," Dad said.

And I did.

The day arrived when the decision finally had to be made, and I decided that yes, I would attend Hogwarts. If for nothing else, I chose to pursue this foreign ability of mine because I believed that everyone should live to their maximum potentials. I learned everything there was to learn about magic, and soon I was very excited to start my magical education at Hogwarts.

Hogwarts turned out to be such a disappointment, but it was nothing I hadn't predicted. I suppose I had hoped to be proven wrong, for once. Despite my magic-related knowledge, I was still an outsider, and treated as one, too. There were people who mocked me about my heritage – or lack of, and also people who rebuked me for being such a "know-it-all".

You have no idea how horrible it felt, having traded my former _finally-perfect-life_ for another one where I was, yet again, nothing.

At least, that was what I thought until the day of my encounter with the troll. I was so sure that that was the worst day of my life, but it turned out I gained two very special friends that day. True friends that I was certain I would cherish till the end of my life.

And now as I watched them chatting over dinner across the table in the Great Hall, I thought, life has a funny way of surprising you. It turns good things bad and bad things good unexpectedly. Somehow, I knew we'd all be okay in the end.


	3. Chapter 3

Kreacher hated Master Sirius. He was mean, he was bully, and he broke Mistress Black's heart. She had had so many plans for her boys, but Master Sirius ruined everything when he was sorted into Gryffindor house. He brought shame to the noble and ancient house of Black. And did he care about the hurt he invoked on his poor mother? No, he did not. The young Master Sirius never thought about anyone but himself. Selfish, selfish spoiled boy. Where had the Mistress and Kreacher gone wrong in raising the two Black heirs? Kreacher could not tell, but he could at least content himself with knowing that out of the two boys, the youngest, Master Regulus had done the right thing in his last hours of living.

Yes, the young Master Regulus had been such a good boy, such a good boy. But when his brother had shamed the family, both Walburga and Orion Black had placed too much pressure on the young boy. They were constantly telling the poor boy that he had to live up to the Black name or else be disowned. Often times, Kreacher would find the child huddled under the stairs crying after a harsh lecture from his parents. Kreacher would comfort the child as best he could. There would times that these lectures were dosed out before the Masters left for a trip or a ball. That was when Kreacher would take the child to the kitchens and serve him some cookies with hot cocoa. It was the best he could think to do, but Master Sirius would ruin his efforts by taunting his brother. Regulus Black suffered much inside the noble and most ancient house of Black.

When Master Regulus began his tenure at Hogwarts, Kreacher was worried, always worried about the young master because there wasn't going to be a Kreacher to take care of him, to comfort him when Master Sirius decided to bully his younger brother. After the first term Kreacher knew that his fears had become reality. Master Regulus confessed that his brother was constantly belittling him. His welcome home hadn't been a good one either. The Master and Mistress had expressed their displeasures with the boy over his first term marks. Later that night, Kreacher snuck some cookies and hot cocoa into the young Master's room. Master Regulus always thanked him: for helping him, for cooking for him, for always being there for him. Kreacher would always cry when this happened for it was an honor for him to serve the young heir.

As the years passed by, Kreacher heard rumors of a Dark wizard named Voldemort. Although he feared his family would become involved with the wizard, which he knew would not bode well,Kreacher never thought that his young Master would follow such a foul wizard. While this had made the Mistress proud, it had made Kreacher profoundly sad. The young Master was not evil; the young Master was kind and honorable. But it made the Mistress happy before she passed away, so Kreacher kept quiet for her sake.

Then, one night, the young Master came home. Kreacher knew instantly something was wrong. He could feel a change in the air and it ran a shiver down his spine. He kept quiet and allowed Master Regulus to think.

"Kreacher, I need your help, please."

Yes, something was definitely up. There was fear in the young Master's eyes, but there was also courage. Courage which Kreacher had never seen before. It was then, Kreacher knew, that his young Master was about to do something that would have a big impact on their world. So without needing to think twice, Kreacher agreed. The relieved smile that Master Regulus gave him was more than enough to convince Kreacher that he was indeed doing the right thing.

"Once you're done with your task, I need you to return home. Do you understand?"

Kreacher nodded his head in agreement. He would never think of disobeying his young Master.

Before long, he found himself standing in a dark cave with a man that radiated evil. He made Kreacher's skin crawl. Every nerve in his system was screaming at him to leave. But he could not. He could not disobey his Master's orders. And so, trying to show no fear, Kreacher drank the potion the evil one ordered him to drink. He felt pain so unimaginable, so unbearable, that he felt like he would die right then and there. He cried out loud. What had he done wrong to warrant such a punishment? His body not only felt like it was on fire, but he saw things; images that he would like nothing more than to forget about.

He saw the night that the young master had been born, the look of indifference from both mother and father. The crying child that had just been brutally punished for a deed his older brother had done. Memory after memory passing through his mind, showing him that he had failed in his duty to care for his master. He screamed in agony and begged for forgiveness. He bashed his head against the nearest thing he could find and bit his fingers to the bone.

Anything to punish himself for failing his master.

Something in the back of his mind urged him to make his way towards the lake. He could feel the cool water brushing his hands, and without thinking, threw himself far enough so he could begin to drink from the lake. It was then that he noticed something wasn't right. The surface of the lake was shaking and there was something in the air that. Everything was quiet, eerily so, and then something leaped from the water. More bodies rose and pulled him into the depths of the dark waters. Fear like he had never felt before attacked every nerve in his system and once again, he wondered what he had done to make his Master Regulus punish him so.

_Master Regulus!_

Remembering his orders to come home, Kreacher focused his energy and Apparated into the house of Black. His young master was there waiting for him. He made sure that Kreacher was not hurt and healed the small cuts and bruises that adorned his small body. Once he was done, he thanked Kreacher and ordered him to stay put and rest. So, Kreacher did as he was told, a few days later, his master returned. Kreacher noticed how nervous his Master seemed, though he said nothing. When his Master asked him to take him to where the evil one had taken him to, he hesitated for only a second. He did not like being back in the cave and he did not like his Master being so close to the lake. He could not remember much of what happened the last time he was there, but his survival instincts were screaming at him to take his Master and flee.

"Kreacher, thank you," Master Regulus said. "I have one more job for you; do you think you can do it? It's very important."

Kreacher nodded his head in agreement and listened as his young Master gave him his last orders. Though he listened to them, he wanted desperately to say no, to say that he would not obey, but he could not do that. He could never disobey his Master Regulus. So it was that Kreacher watched as his Master drank the potion that had caused him so much pain. And once all of the potion was gone, he quickly snatched the locket and placed inside it the fake one. Once that was done Kreacher tried to summon water for his Master, but as soon as the water touched the cup it would vanish. His Master shoved him away and ran towards the lake before Kreacher could do anything to stop him. Nothing happened, which made Kreacher wonder if he had imagined everything.

"Kreacher, go!" Master Regulus said when he realized that the elf was still by his side.

Kreacher flinched at the sound of his Master's hoarse voice.

"You must obey me, Kreacher!"

Before he could begin to argue with his Master, something leaped out of the water and attacked him. It was a body; but just like the evil one, it reeked of dark magic. One after another, more bodies rose from the lake and advanced towards them. Master Regulus used his magic to fight them, but there were too many.

"Go, Kreacher! That's an order!"

With a heavy heart and tears streaming down his face, Kreacher followed his Master's orders and popped out of the cave. There was no way he could have taken his Master with him. There were too many of those evil creatures for him to fight off. But he held hope that somehow his Master would return to him. And so, he waited. The house was eerily quiet and time seemed to slow down. Yet, Kreacher waited for the return of his Master. He waited day after day, but his Master had yet to return. Days turned into months; the house became dirty from neglect. Food became sparse. Soon, no one remembered the noble and most ancient house of Black.

And then, one day, a year after he had lost his master, Kreacher received news. The morning he had picked up the Daily Prophet from the owl post, he saw the headlines.

**_HARRY POTTER DEFEATS HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED_**

A baby had defeated the evil one. His Master Regulus was never coming back.

Kreacher sat in silence for a long time, pondering what to do. It was then he recalled the locket. He had yet to do as his Master ordered. He needed to destroy the locket, if it was the last thing he would do.

It took him fourteen years before he could find the answer to destroying the locket. Master Sirius had returned, and with him many more people. He hated all of them. The redheadswere loud and were constantly waking up the portrait of the Mistress. But there was one child who he did not hate. He was the smallest of the bunch, a child with unruly black hair and a scar upon his forehead. He reminded him so much of his young Master Regulus- timid and with the weight of the world on his shoulders. While he ignored the rest of the people in the house, he took care of this new child. He talked to him and when the child seemed down, he would bake him some cookies and serve them with a nice hot mug of hot cocoa.

Eventually the child learned to confide in the old elf. He told him of his dreams, and especially of his fears. He spoke of the evil one's return and how he had defeated him once as a baby. It was then that Kreacher knew that this was someone who could help him get rid of the locket. Someone who could help him complete his Master Regulus' last request.

On the last day of their stay, Kreacher sadly packed the child's trunk. He would miss the young boy, and knew that just like Master Regulus, this child needed him at Hogwarts too. Once he was done, the child thanked him for packing his things for him, saying that he shouldn't have bothered. Kreacher explained that it was his honor to serve him before giving him a gift. It was a small pouch, and inside it was the locket. Kreacher could not think of a way to destroy it, but he could give it to someone who could find a way to do so. He explained to the child what the locket was and how he had acquired it.

He made the child promise not to put the locket on and to never tell any of the adults about it, especially Master Sirius. There was a small hesitation at this, but eventually the child promised. Kreacher felt relief at knowing that the locket would be taken care of. The next day, he watched as the child and the others boarded the Knight Bus to be taken to Platform 9 ¾. He hoped that he had done the right thing in giving the child the locket. Something inside him told him it was destiny, and that it was better to do it now then wait when it was too late.

**One year later-**

"We need to find these Horcruxes in order to defeat Tom."

Dumbledore sat behind his desk as Harry paced around the circular office. He didn't know why, but it didn't surprise him to know how far Voldemort had gone to make sure he would never die. It was sickening at most.

"Do you have any idea as to where he could have hidden them, sir?"

"Tell me, Harry," Dumbledore said as he rested his chin on his injured hand. "Did you notice anything about the previous memories? What was Tom after in each memory after starting Hogwarts?"

Harry thought about everything he'd seen in the last couple of months. Yes, there was a pattern, but he could not think what. His pacing stopped as his eyes fell upon the Sword of Gryffindor. "All those items, they were things belonging to the founders."

"The cup and the locket were. The ring, though, was a family heirloom. And of course the diary was something he probably bought in Diagon Alley," Dumbledore said.

There was a moment of silence as Harry thought about everything. It was then when a memory of last year hit him. The first summer he had spent in Grimmauld Place. The old elf had told him the story of Regulus Black and how the young man had died trying to destroy the locket. As he recalled the story Kreacher had told him, the more the possibility of it being a Horcrux seemed real. Without another word, Harry ran out the office and straight to Gryffindor Tower. Once he reached his dorm room he dashed to his trunk and began to throw things out, hoping against everything that it was still there. Relief filled him as he saw the pouch sitting at the bottom of the trunk. With a small smile, he reached down and picked it up, standing quickly and running out the door and back to the Headmaster's office.

He wished he could have taken a picture of the Headmaster's face at the shock of seeing the locket.

"Harry, where in the world did you find that locket?" an astonished Dumbledore asked.

Harry explained everything that Kreacher had told him the summer before. By the end of his tale, the Headmaster was in awe. He never would have thought that Regulus would be the one to stand up against Tom Riddle and try to stop him. Sirius had been so wrong about his brother, and now he would never know what Regulus did to help fight against Voldemort.

Carefully, he took the locket from Harry and placed it on the floor of his office. He then asked Harry to take the Sword of Gryffindor and stab the locket. As soon as the locket sensed what was going on, it tried attacking them. A large dark cloud formed, and the image of Lily and James Potter appeared before them. Seeing the locket trying to use his parents against him filled Harry with uncontrollable anger. Dumbledore shouted at Harry to stab the locket and with a swift blow, the small piece of Voldemort's soul was gone for good.

Harry and Dumbledore both fell to the ground, exhausted from the magic the locket had drawn from them. The locket was now nothing but a blackened piece of metal. Harry gingerly picked up and was surprised to see that it was cool to the touch. Mentor and student agreed to call it a night and Harry left to return back to Gryffindor Tower.

The rest of the month passed in a blur, and before anyone knew it, it was the last month of school. The night after the last final, Death Eaters broke into the school and attacked the students. Harry and Dumbledore's Army fought to keep the younger students safe. But when Harry saw Malfoy leading a group of Death Eaters towards the Headmaster's office he quickly followed them, using short cuts to get there before them. As soon as he stepped foot inside the office he saw Snape and McGonagall standing next to Dumbledore. Pulling off his cloak, he tried to warn them about the approaching Death Eater, when a loud booming sound shook the entire tower. The three Professors ordered Harry under the Invisibility Cloak and away from the door.

Soon, Malfoy and five Death Eaters were all standing inside the office, wands locked on to the three Professors. Harry wasn't worried though; the only ones who seemed to know how to fight were Bellatrix and Fenrir.

Snape stepped forward, wand pointed at one of the Carrows, taunting the short man, shredding him to pieces with his comments, before turning his wand against McGonagall and stunning her. Harry was about to jump out and help Dumbledore when a Freezing Charm was placed over him. He couldn't tell who it was from though; neither Dumbledore nor Snape had spoken a word. He tried to cancel the spell, but the magic holding it was too strong. All he could do was stand there and watch.

Dumbledore and Snape stared each other down, neither one of them saying a word. In a blink of an eye, the two of them were battling, forcing the occupants to run for cover. The portraits ran away to safety while shouting encouragements to their Headmaster. Yet, the two men kept away from where Harry stood. After what seemed like hours of the Headmaster dueling Snape, Dumbledore fell. Harry stood, shock coursing through his body as he watched Snape and the other Death Eaters gang up on Dumbledore.

Bellatrix was jumping with joy as she dragged Draco to stand in front of Dumbledore. "Go on, Draco. Finish him!"

Draco, looking more scared than ever, ripped away the Headmaster's wand away from the old man and threw it to the other side of the room.

"You're not a killer, Draco. You never were," Dumbledore said.

Harry could see Malfoy's hand shake as he tried to keep his wand steady. But it was obvious to everyone the boy was terrified out of his mind. The others looked annoyed at this, clearly wanting to see the old man dead and done with. They were practically drooling with the realization that it was almost all over. The only thing standing in their way of victory was a scared boy.

It was only when the sound of shouts and approaching footsteps reached their ears that Snape pushed the Malfoy heir aside and pointed his wand at the Headmaster.

"Severus," the Headmaster said as he pulled himself up using the wall to stand up. "Please- you promised me!"

Snape's lips curled in distaste and without hesitation said, "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry watched in horror as the Killing Curse pushed the headmaster through the window. The Death Eaters cheered before summoning brooms and flying out the broken window. Snape was the last to leave, and as he mounted his broom, he looked over to where Harry was still standing. The bastard was smirking, and before he flew out the room, he winked at Harry. The boy had no time to ponder about this before there were more people in the room throwing hexes towards Snape.

It was a while before Harry realized that the spell that had been placed on him was no longer working. Pulling off the cloak, he ran past the shocked D.A. members and the Weasleys. He could hear them calling out for him and some even following him, but he didn't care. He had to reach Dumbledore. He couldn't be dead, he just couldn't believe it.

Kreacher watched as his boy sat still, not touching his food, just staring at it.

It had been a month since his boy had returned to the manor. He had been afraid that his boy would never want to return, but he did and Kreacher was happy for it. He just wished his boy wasn't so sad. The death of the Headmaster had obviously shaken him, just like it had the rest of the world. Making up his mind, he took away the cold plate of food and shooed his boy out of the kitchen. He was going to do the only thing he knew to cheer someone up.

Not much later, Kreacher was levitating a tray full of cookies and a cup of hot cocoa into Harry's room. His boy smiled a little seeing the gesture for what it was. Comfort. And so, Kreacher and his Master sat on the bed, talking. His younger master explained everything that had happened that year. His young Master had even been kind enough to present him with the remains of the destroyed locket. Kreacher cried upon seeing it, knowing that the last wishes of his Master Regulus had been fulfilled after so many years.

After his boy was done explaining what had happened in the duel between Dumbledore and Snape, Kreacher began to clean up their mess and sent it to the kitchen. As he did so, he said, "Sometimes, Master Harry Potter, things are not what they seem. But rather what someone wants us to think we saw."

With that, he left the room and returned to the kitchen to wash the dishes. He knew his boy was just as smart as Master Regulus had been, and if he thought hard about what Kreacher said, he would understand his words. But until then, Kreacher would focus on protecting his boy from harm as they all fought the evil that walked the Earth. The evil that called himself Lord Voldemort.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Deciding Life

Character: Ron Weasley

House: Hufflepuff House

Love From A Muggle aka Kara

* * *

The first summer without Fred was like Christmas without snow. It was anything but fun. In fact, it was all tears as I stared at the breakfast table at the Burrow most mornings. This morning however, I laid in bed, too lazy to get up. No, not lazy. I didn't want to get up.

Harry and Hermione were staying with us for the summer holidays. Although, I overheard Hermione talking to Ginny last night saying that she may leave soon to find her parents. Alone. Meaning, without me. She wants to be like that, fine. She wants to not talk about our relationship, or what happened , fine. But truthfully, I need this summer to figure out who I am and what I need to do.

Hermione's already determined to go back to Hogwarts if they reopen. Mum thinks they will. Dad isn't so sure. All the Wizard families volunteered after the war to fix up Hogwarts and help get things back to how they were. Funny thing though. Things won't be the same. Students who died won't come back to complete lessons. Students like Colin Creevy to name one, and many others.

Even Diagon Alley had started to rebuild itself. I chose to stay at home in case George needed to talk. He didn't go back to Diagon Alley at first. Three weeks after Fred's funeral, George went back to the shop. He kept saying he needed to get away. I just stayed at home. I didn't want to go back there. I didn't want to go see the place that made things awkward for Hermione and I. Infact, I didn't really do anything except sit around and mope all summer. But mum had moving around a week after the final battle.

Multiple times over the summer she would say to me, "George needs us, he needs support from his family."

This morning was different. I can hear mum calling my name, trying to get me up. And when I still didn't get my butt out of bed, she threw a pillow at my head.

'"Ronald, WAKE UP. Your brother needs you now more than anything. Show some respect.'" And walked out of the room leaving a pillow next to my head.

The pillow must have smacked some sense into me because the next thing I knew I was pulling on my trousers, tying my shoes and opening the door right as Hermione raised her fist to knock.

"Were you planning on hitting me?" I asked, joking trying to lighten up the mood.

"I need to talk to you," Hermione said avoiding eye contact. I knew what that meant.

"We can talk here," I said as Ginny passed by coming down from her room she shared with Hermione.

"Alone."

Great. This was it. She was going to end things with me.

"I'm leaving tomorrow to go find my parents. Harry says they don't need my help at school and that I have better things to do."

Harry took on rebuilding Hogwarts, along with the help of Professor McGonagall, right after Fred's funeral. He only came back to the Burrow on weekends when he was too exhausted to go further without food or sleep. They fed him at the school, but he said he missed mum's cooking.

"Ron?" Hermione waved her hand in front of my face.

"What?"

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I am getting breakfast," I said.

"No, Ron., with your life. This summer. You're not helping at the school, and not at the shop like the rest of the family-"

"Hermione, must we go back to that again?" I asked interrupting her.

"It is the middle of July now and you still haven't gone back to Hogwarts or to the shop to help your family. Harry decided to help Hogwarts right off the bat. I just decided to go find my parents,"

"Yes, but you did that after Harry told you to leave Hogwarts."

"Well, what are YOU going to do?"

"Give you another kiss?" It was the first time we mentioned the kiss since it happened.

"I am not giving you any kisses until you choose what to do with your life. Or at least this summer, Ronald."

Hermione glared at me and walked out of the room.

"I did choose. You just don't know it yet," I stated but she couldn't hear me. I sighed, walked out of my room and went looking for my mum.

"Mum," I said.

She turned around. Tears were already running down her cheeks again for what looked like the second time today.

"I'm going to help George with the shop once he reopens it. I'm going to help clean up. You and dad are needed elsewhere, and Ginny needs to finish her schooling and be there with Harry rebuilding Hogwarts. That leaves me. I'm the only one who can help George."

"Oh Ron!"

And that was that. Mum threw her arms around my neck and kissed me.

"I knew you would make the right decision. Thank you. Sit down and eat breakfast. You can leave after a full meal." She hugged me once more before I took my seat.

I knew I made the right choice. I really was the only person for the job, even if I didn't want to do it.


End file.
